"I don't think so. If she knew she'd have said something or done something."
"She mightn't. She mightn't do anything. Perhaps she's just being angelically good to us."
"She is angelically good. But she doesn't know. You forget her illness began before there was anything to know. It isn't the sort of thing she'd think of. If somebody told her she wouldn't believe it. She trusts us absolutely…. That's bad enough, Anne, without her knowing."
"Yes. It's bad enough. It's worse, really."
"I know it is…. Anne—I'm awfully sorry to have let you in for all this misery."
"You mustn't be sorry. You haven't let me in for it. Nobody could have known it would have happened. It wouldn't, if Maisie had been different. We wouldn't have bothered then. Nothing would have mattered. Think how gloriously happy we were. All my life all my happiness has come through you or because of you. We'd be happy still if it wasn't for Maisie."
"I don't see how we're to go on like this. I can't stand it when you're not happy. And nothing makes any difference, really. I want you so awfully all the time."
"That's one of the things we mustn't say to each other."
"I know we mustn't. Only I didn't want you to think I didn't."
"I don't think it. I know you'll care for me as long as you live. Only you mustn't say so. You mustn't be sorry for me. It makes me feel all weak and soft when I want to be strong and hard."